Chapter Text
Clarke stood behind the grounders as they pried the metal door open. They were divided in two lines of 20 warriors, both pulling on ropes that had been tethered on the end of grappling hooks clinging on the door.
Clarke’s attention was torn between the mountain and the door in front of her. Any minute the door would open and the grounder army were going to flood the corridors of the Mt. Weather but she was still looking for signs of Lexa and her men. She had obviously achieved in stopping Cage’s men from picking them off but her lack of appearance was unsettling to the blonde.
“If something happened to Lexa…” Clarke couldn’t finish the thought. She wouldn’t be able to do this without Lexa. They were going to win this battle. Together.
A loud metallic creak shook Clarke out of her thoughts. She looked up to see the door slowly open. She could feel the grounders behind her stir. This door had been impenetrable for almost 100 years to them, keeping the monsters behind them safe but now they were finally going to get their revenge. Their thirst to avenge their clansmen and loved-ones charged the air.
Clarke through her sword holding hand in the air, and shouted a guttural, “"Jus drein jus daun!"
The response was maddening as 2000 grounders began to chant the same lines. It gave strength to those still pulling at the doors until there was finally enough room to fit lines of 3 men at a time.
“On three we attack!” Clarke shouted. She felt Lincoln return back to her side, ready to protect her as she braced for the onslaught.
“ONE.”
“TWO.”
“THRE—“
“HOD OP.”
Everyone stopped. Clarke whipped her head to the direction of the command only to see Lexa flanked by her men. She looked terrifying and beautiful; her war paint had been replaced by streaks of dirt and blood.
Clarke’s face broke into a smile. Of course Lexa was fine. But she felt something in the pit of her stomach when she saw Lexa’s face. She was maintaining her usual cold facade but Clarke didn’t feel any happiness or even pride from her, which surprised Clarke because they were so far doing very good in terms of their plan. Instead she felt nothing. Lexa was unreadable.
She caught sight of a man held captive in ropes by Lexa’s side. She recognized him as one of the Mountain Men’s generals. Clarke’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she approached Lexa. Grounder’s don’t take prisoners.
“Lexa, what are you doing? We have to attack now.”
“No.” Lexa faced Clarke. Her chin was raised stoically in defiance.
Clarke turned around and saw a trickle of people exit through the metal door. They were grounders but Clarke couldn’t see any signs of Bellamy or the rest of the 100.
“What did you do?” Clarke whispered, her body weak from her growing fears.
“What you would have done. Saved my people.” Lexa said. Her neutral mask was still in place but her eyes shown guilt.
“What about my people?” Clarke asked. She already knew the answer but she wanted Lexa to say it. She wanted Lexa to feel an ounce of the pain she was feeling.
“They weren’t part of the deal. I’m sorry Clarke.” She turned to the mountain men general and cut his ropes free.
He rubbed wrists as he nodded at Lexa and strode to the door to safety. Clarke snapped as he passed her. She swiftly kicked at the back of his knee and threw a punch to the center of his face as we crumbled down. Clarke felt a sickening crunch under her fist as she heard his nose and possibly one of her fingers break. She clenched her fingers and her jaws as to not show any pain while the Commander was looking.
The general quickly rose to fight back. He was using one hand to stop the flow of blood from his nose and the other to swipe at Clarke but was thrown aside by Lincoln.
He looked to make another move for Clarke but probably decided against it given that the Commander was watching. He instead slowly hobbled away muttering under his breath.
Lincoln quickly faced the commander.
“Heda, the prisoners from the Ark will die in there. We must fight. This is wrong.”
“Sound the retreat.” Lexa replied, ignoring Lincoln’s pleas.
“No. This is wrong.” Lincoln urged.
Lexa turned to one of her generals, her jaw clenching, “Chain him.”
Lincoln fought against the group of grounders but was ultimately beaten down.
“Leave him with me,” Clarke begged.
“He is a grounder. He swore his allegiance to me, and he must be punished for his disobedience.” Lexa said swiftly, her eyes diverted to the nearest grounder and ordering them to sound the retreat horn Lincoln refused to play.
Clarke shook her head, her eye’s brimming with tears as she watched the grounder army slowly disappear into the trees.
“Lexa, don’t do this…You don’t care do you?” Clarke asked in disgust. Her heart broke over the betrayal. Just a few hours ago she was imagining life with Lexa after the battle, now the image of her boiled her blood.
“I do care. But I made this decision with my head not my heart.”
Clarke refused to say anything. Lexa had made her decision. She made a move to turn her back but Lexa thrust out her arm in a farewell urging Clarke to grab it.
“May we meet again,” Lexa said, quoting the Arker’s goodbye.
Clarke grew angry with the Commander’s actions. How dare she condemn a group of people to death then use their sayings?
Clarke quickly clasped Lexa’s arms with hers, their hands cupping each other’s elbows but instead of letting go, Clarke pulled Lexa into her. Her other arm snaking around the commander’s waist and pulling her close.
Clarke fought the feeling she usually associated with being this close to the Commander; happiness, desire, lust, she felt disgust at her self.
She brought her lips close to the Commander’s ear; inhaling her scent for a final time before whispering, “The next time we meet I’ll be putting a knife to your throat.”
She quickly let go of the Commander and sought out to find Octavia. She didn’t look back to see the Commander’s reaction. She had to get her people out.